


Clouds Over A Century Sky

by XtaticPearl



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Banter, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Opposites Attract, Road Trips, Steve Rogers Feels, Strangers to Friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 08:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15167033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XtaticPearl/pseuds/XtaticPearl
Summary: Steve Rogers decides to go to Dublin when he is invited by his estranged partner to a conference, despite arguments by his friends. He is convinced that a gesture of commitment might solve their relationship, and sets off on the trip with a ring in hand. Steve’s troubles begin when his flight is diverted due to stormy weather and gets him being stranded at a small town.At a pub, when Steve discovers that the cabs might be more than he can afford at the moment, the barkeep informs him of a fellow American who was staying there and had a rental car. Steve meets Tony, an unpredictable, witty, and oddly smooth self-claimed mechanic, who makes the journey more complicated by making Steve challenge almost everything he believed was simple about himself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FestiveFerret](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/gifts).



> This fic is inspired by Leap Year (2010) and I'm super glad that I got the chance to write a roadtrip fic. I've never been on a roadtrip in Ireland, so please excuse technicalities if you could. I hope you all enjoy this fic and have fun!

“You know what they call this?”

Steve eyed his toiletries pouch, contemplating the benefits of packing a whole new tube of toothpaste, when the pouch was lowered from his gaze. 

“Denial.  _ This  _ is called denial,” Sam declared as he took a step back when Steve moved around him to put the pouch in his bag. 

“I think I’m done,” Steve pulled the flap of the suitcase down and made a face when the broken zip was stuck to the cloth, trying to pull it free, “Alright, so maybe I do need a new bag.”

“It’s like he can’t hear me,” Sam turned to Natasha, pointing at Steve as he addressed both of them, “Did you hear even a word of what I said?”

“I think the entire building did at one point,” Natasha snorted and covered it up with a cough when Sam shot her a deadpan look, “What? You two are definitely on a different scale of dramatic.”

“This one’s dramatic,” Sam shot back, moving Steve’s bag to sit on the bed, “I am being perfectly reasonable. And sane, which is a rarity around here apparently.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and mouthed an incredulous ‘wow’ under her breath before pulling her feet up onto the bed as she leaned against the headboard to watch Steve pretend to be busy sorting through his sock drawer. 

It had been seven hours since Steve Rogers had gotten a call from Belfast while wrapping up lunch at work. Natasha had heard about it from Sam and between the first call and the second, things had escalated to something they hadn’t been able to calm down for hours now. 

“You’re sure you’ll be able to handle Pierce, right?” Steve asked as he threw two balls of socks at Sam, who instinctively caught them with a huff. 

“Yes”

“No,” Sam shot Natasha a look before staring back at Steve, “No, we can’t. Which means you can’t go. Whoops.”

“Great, thanks,” Steve grinned at Sam as he came around, hip-checking the shorter man to pack the socks in with his carry-on, “I’m sure Nat’ll have fun handling him alone.”

“Fun is not the word I’ll use,” Nat mused with a small smile, shrugging at Sam, “Okay, what do you want, birdman? You  _ know _ we can handle the smug-ass easily.”

“Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?” Sam asked her incredulously but she shot Steve a small glance before shaking her head.

“No, so do I,” she agreed and met Steve’s narrowed look with a steady stare, “You  _ know _ I do. But I’ve seen you go through worse ideas and have learnt, from terribly exhausting experience, that it’s best to let you hit the wall than yell at you to swerve sometimes. It saves energy.”

“Your energy?” Steve laughed and Nat nodded as she leaned across to pat Sam’s back.

“The only one that matters,” she replied before addressing Sam, “You’ve got the tickets?”

“It’s in his phone, I’m not his AI,” Sam quipped but dug out his own phone to show her the copy, “I can’t believe we actually got a ticket this late. I knew Scott was handy but this is just impressive.”

“The man’s got skill,” Nat agreed and used Sam’s shoulder as support as she got off the bed, smirking when he made a face at her pressure, “Alright. Steve, you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Steve patted his thighs and exhaled as he looked at his best friends, reading the mix of frustration and resignation in their faces. It had been different when they’d first met, and it still hurt thinking about the reason they had met but it was a fading hurt that he had learnt to manage. The price of learning that had been high through and Steve remembered all the reasons Sam was insistent he didn’t go to Ireland. 

When the first break-up had hit him, it had strangely felt numbing rather than painful. He could still recall the way Sharon had looked at him, a mix of pain, determination, and disappointment in her eyes as she stood from the table. They’d never completed their dinner that day and Steve had calmly stored the leftover in the fridge even as his girlfriend had packed her bags in the bedroom. It had been eerily polite, the way he had told her that she could sleep through that night and then leave in the morning. There had been no anger, no heart-break, and Steve knew that  _ that _ had shattered Sharon more than the break-up itself. She had tried to be supportive, be there for him from the moment he had come back after his discharge, having won the war but lost the battle against an accidental car crash. She had held him as he had packed his best friend’s things into a box for some dark corner. She had done more than he had asked and he hadn’t asked her for anything she wanted him to. It had been an abyss growing between them and their friends hadn’t known till he’d told them that she wouldn’t come by for Sam’s birthday celebrations one day. 

He remembered everybody being happy when they’d gotten back together, the perfect couple reunited. Then there was the ‘time-out’ he wanted before they came back together for Christmas. Then there was the ‘break’ she suggested that he argued but only because he couldn’t hear between her lines. And again. And some more. 

The last time he had seen her, Steve remembered being perversely glad that he could cry somewhere outside the shower and it felt disgusting to think about the next minute but he knew that it was unavoidable. She’d tried to build her life along with support him build his own and he had tried to keep his control about everything from snapping when she had no fault. Sharon had been wonderful before she had been his girlfriend and  _ that _ made him feel more uncomfortable than letting her go when they’d last separated. 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t live without her, even though she was one of the most wonderful friends he had ever had, but rather something he didn’t want to discuss with anyone. It had hit him one day, when he had taken the laundry out of his washing-machine, that he’d never have a family. Being an art teacher at a high school was safe, clear, and peaceful after his years with the Army. Having a small but tight group of friends made his life have an order. He didn’t owe anyone anything and didn’t have any enemies to battle. It should have been perfect. 

But it wasn’t and Steve had gone through a breakdown in the laundry room, with soap bubbles in his arms and a gravy-stained shirt clutched in his hands. He’d never have a family, he realized, especially since he didn’t date like others and wasn’t the easiest man to live with for a long-term. 

So when Sharon had called earlier to invite him to Dublin for her book launch, he had grabbed the opportunity and decided to try to mend things with her. She had needed commitment and support, and Steve believed that he could do both. 

Sam had called his idea an ‘idea of desperation’ and Nat had said that some things were ‘better left in the past’. Especially since Sharon and him had never been able to completely agree on marriage or similar lines when they’d been firmly together. 

Now looking at his best friends, Steve knew that they believed he was making a mistake but he couldn’t explain it to them. Not right now. To them his fear might come off as irrational but to Steve - 

“One last chance, man,” Sam said and Steve smiled softly as he hugged Nat before hugging Sam, “We can still cancel this.”

“I’ll be fine, Sam,” Steve promised and picked his bag off the bed, “I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, it’s not you I’m worried about. That poor girl doesn’t know what’s coming her way,” Sam quipped but sighed and nodded when Steve clapped him on the back, “Fine. She can kick your ass back here once you’re done embarrassing yourself.”

“How’re you a VA counsellor again?” Nat asked drily and Steve choked on a laugh when Sam pulled a finger on her. 

“I’m just telling the man the way it is,” Sam shrugged and pushed at Steve as he grabbed the carry-on, “I guess it won’t be too bad. At the worst you’ll have a vacation and at best, Sharon Carter will claw your brain out.”

“How is that the best?” Steve nodded at Nat to pick up the car keys as he made his way towards the door.

“Boy, you’ve never been on  _ vacation _ before, have you?” Sam asked in a dramatically disgusted voice and Steve grinned as Natasha pulled Sam out the door finally. 

\---

The last time Steve had been on a flight to Ireland, he had been a teenager and his mother had spent half her savings on getting them there and back. While Sarah Rogers hadn’t lived with the best of fortune she had lived with dignity and pride, things she had passed on to her son in more ounces than was sometimes useful. Steve had watched her work overtime and double-shifts to save enough for the trip, because not going to her nephew’s wedding was something that would set tongues wagging more than they already had been. 

It had been a flight for more than just a wedding for them. It had been to uphold their dignity in her family’s side. 

Steve put the in-flight magazine back into its pocket and shifted in his seat. Reading the same page a dozen times wasn’t helping his tension and he dug out his ear-phones from his jacket, accidentally hitting his elbow on his neighbour’s arm. 

“Sorry,” Steve moved away from the lady who winced and rubbed at her arm, “I’m really sorry, I - I was just getting my ear-phones. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a sting, big guy,” the grey-haired woman waved his apology off but looked at him curiously, gaze flicking between his ear-phones and his hand, “Is that a ring tangled in your cords?”

“What -,” Steve looked at his earphones and bit back a curse, pulling the tangles wires off the ring he had clearly forgotten to put in the carry-on bag, “ - yeah, thanks.”

“It’s a pretty ring,” the lady commented and Steve smiled politely at her as he stuffed the ring back into his jacket’s pocket, zipping the pocket up for good measure, “Looked like a Claddagh with a vintage style. Grandmother’s?”

Steve blinked at her for a moment, caught between wariness and curiosity, and some of it must have shown on his face making her laugh. 

“Sorry, I’ve been told I come on strong. Hi,” the lady extended her hand, a pleasant smile on her face, “I’m Janet. Janet Van Dyne.”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve shook her hand and noted the awkward way she was seated, “Are you okay? You seem uncomfortable. Am I  -”

“Oh no, it’s nothing. I’m just not used to flying economy,” Janet cut Steve short and cringed at her own words, offering a sheepish smile, “That sounds terribly elitist, doesn’t it?”

“I’d love first class for a 6 hour flight too, if I could afford it,” Steve laughed and Janet pushed back into her seat with a vehement nod, “Good guess about the ring, though I’m not sure if it’s my grandmother’s or my father got it from somewhere else. It’s my mother’s ring.”

“It’s beautiful,” she commented and thankfully didn’t ask to see it. Steve settled back in his seat and plugged his earphones into his iPod, selecting a random playlist as he tilted his head back a bit to try getting some sleep. It wasn’t ideal and he didn’t have a habit of sleeping through flights, but he did try through Marvin Gaye proving why he was better than any modern version of  _ Get It On _ and Rolling Stones jamming to  _ That’s How Strong My Love Is _ . His potpourri of music choices were largely influenced by his friends and for a moment Steve wished for a simpler time when he wasn’t trying a crazy idea that none in his group really approved. 

Exhaling hard, Steve thumbed the playlist to a stop and rolled his head to the side, trying to look out the window as he pulled an earbud out. He frowned a little when he heard someone humming and felt his lips quirk a little as he turned back to his neighbour. 

“Ghost Loft?” he asked and felt like a heel when Janet startled from the iPad she was browsing through, “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, I was just - wait, you know Ghost Loft?” Janet turned more in her seat and grinned brightly when Steve chuckled. 

“One of my friends thinks it’s her mood music,” he admitted, recalling all the times Nat called him a fossil for liking only old music, “I’m not averse.”

“How gracious of you,” Janet laughed and nodded to the iPod Steve had put down, “Nothing interesting?”

“Nothing helpful,” Steve admitted, getting a quick glance of the screen on her iPad, looking up to see Janet raise an eyebrow, “Nice design. You’re an artist, ma’am?”

“ _ Ma’am _ ?” Janet raised both her brows and shook her head with a teasing huff, “I see how it is. You don’t like my music and suddenly I’m ‘ma’am’. Good going, Mr. Rogers.”

“I’m not going to get off easy with any direction that conversation goes,” Steve commented much to Janet’s delight, “It’s an old habit. My Ma was pretty particular about language.”

“So is my daughter,” Janet shrugged with a fond look flashing across her eyes. She looked down at her iPad for a minute before she looked back at Steve, her smile more practiced this time. “I’m a designer, actually, to answer your question.”

“Oh, that’s - wait,” Steve frowned, “Van Dyne. Van Dyne of the  _ Wasp’s Sting _ brand? That’s you?”

“You get more interesting by the minute, my friend,” Janet pat Steve’s arm-rest, “Your partner’s a customer, I presume?”

“Oh, no, well, I don’t know exactly,” Steve cleared his throat and continued, “One of my students got it as a present for his coming out party.”

To her credit, Janet didn’t bat an eye before looking delighted about it and Steve felt more relaxed about things. 

“Students, huh? You’re a teacher?”

“Art,” Steve nodded and snorted when her eyes widened tellingly, “Yes, that’s why I asked about your design.”

“I kind of got some military vibes from you, I’ll admit,” Ms. Van Dyne eyed Steve critically and he nodded vaguely. 

“Army. Captain Rogers. Discharged five years back.”

“Captain fits you well,” his companion replied with an approving nod, a gleam of mischief entering her eyes, “So, Captain Rogers, what does this visit hold for you? A romantic proposal?”

Steve wasn’t fast enough to hide his surprise and she grinned, looking fascinated. 

“That’s wonderful, Steve, I’m sure your partner will love the Claddagh,” Janet assured, iPad and design forgotten, “I love the romantic legends. There’s something magical about an old-fashioned love, isn’t it? I mean, sure, a lot of change is for the better but I do miss some good romantic tales. So, how long have you been dating?”

Steve felt his jaw lock and throat tickle, a sense of discomfort passing through him and Janet sensed it as she eased off on her questions. 

“A complicated story there, huh?” she asked in a mildly apologetic tone, clicking her tongue as she sat straighter, “Yeah, I tend to get all in people’s business sometimes. Hope, my daughter, reminds me about it whenever she’s around.  _ Mom, people will tweet about their life if they want you to know _ , she says. She’s a lot quieter, but whip smart. A real stinger, my girl.”

The discomfort had passed with Janet’s quiet chatter and Steve breathed out, shooting her a small smile. They chatted for a while and Steve ended up telling her about his plan to propose after the launch. 

“You think it’s a bad idea?”

“Well, I’m a bit of a romantic, Steve. All my ideas regarding romance are a bit cheesy and bad,” Janet chuckled before shaking her head, “But I do believe that there’s no set formula for a happy ending and  - quite honestly, there  _ are _ no happy endings.”

“I thought you were a romantic?” Steve joked but Janet shot him a wistful smile. 

“Yes, but I’m also a woman who married the love of my life, had a kid with him, divorced him and am now finally learning to love my life again,” she said and huffed chidingly when she caught Steve looking troubled, “Oh don’t feel bad for me, I still am fond of Hank. He’s the guy I spent more than half of my past with. We’ve got enough memories to last a lifetime. I admire him and we just had the most wonderful family holiday back in the US.”

“But you don’t believe in happy endings?”

“I don’t know if endings are something to be happy about or if we’re happy about it, the thing that ended was something to be happy  _ with _ ,” she replied and paused thoughtfully before continuing, “I’d rather have a happy now. No good story is interesting because it ended happy. It’s interesting because it had a good journey. Journeys make the most fun. In fact, my father, bless his soul, had the most wonderful thought about love and journeys.”

“Sir, ma’am,” the air-hostess interrupted and both of them looked up, “would you be interested in some hot towels?”

“No, thank -”

“We don’t want your boiled rags,” Janet said in the most courteous tone and Steve choked on air, swallowing his laughter at the expression on the stewardess’ face before she politely nodded and left. 

“I do like that show,” Janet told Steve casually and he buried his face in his hands for a minute before looking up at her smirk, “Now, where was I? Ah, yes, my father.”

“Dear God”

“He said,” Janet ignored Steve’s chuckles and continued, “that ‘love is just one misadventure away on a journey of chances’. Of course, he and mom had an arranged marriage so he must know what he was talking about, considering that he got married first and managed to fall in love with the same woman later. Skipped the proposal nervousness, the lucky man.”

“Misadventure? Shouldn’t it be adventure?” Steve asked as he caught her iPad when it slipped.

“Oh, the crazier adventures, the ‘misadventures’, are the most memorable parts of life, Captain,” Janet pointed and accepted her tab with a nod, “now, I think I’ve kept you from your sleep enough and I should probably go through these too. Get some rest. We’ve got a long way ahead.”

Steve agreed and let his neighbour get back to her work, putting the earphones back in and turning to look out the window. It wasn’t long before his eyes shut and he let his nerves die into sleep. 

When he came awake, it was to the knowledge of something being wrong. 

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, blinking away the sleep as he sat up straighter, looking at a nervous looking Janet, “Is it turbulence? How long was I out?”

Janet didn’t have to answer as the Captain announced over the intercom about a storm warning that was causing them to divert the flight to the nearest base. 

“Where’s that?” Steve asked and Janet eyed the aisle nervously before looking back at Steve. 

“Wales, apparently. The hostess said it would be that before you woke up,” she informed and Steve bit back a curse before he noted the way she was breathing out hard. 

“Hey, it’ll be fine, breathe. How about we talk about something else?” he asked in an attempt to distract her and Janet shot him a scathing look saying  _ what could we possibly talk about distracting enough _ . Steve ignored that and continued, hoping it would get her to focus on something other than her nerves. “How about I tell you about Sharon?”

“I’m sure she’s a lovely girl and you’ll have a super sweet life but honestly Steve, I really don’t -”

“We’re not dating,” Steve blurted and Janet paused, slowly focusing on Steve. 

“What, and you’re proposing for fun?” she asked with a frown and Steve decided to just go on with the conversation. 

The conversation lasted till the announcement came for them to prepare for descent and Ms van Dyne didn’t say a word throughout Steve’s explanation. When they landed, Steve kept his silence and she didn’t look at him. 

It was only once they’d got off the plane and were in the airport that she spoke again. 

“I think it’s interesting.”

“And that I’m crazy,” Steve suggested knowingly but the older fashionista scoffed it away smoothly. 

“Most people are, but not many are brave,” she commented, making Steve smile as they waited for their luggage. 

“I’m glad you think I’m brave,” Steve said with a rueful shake of his head as he lifted a bag off for a lady nearby, nodding at her thanks, “My friends think I’m being foolish.”

“You can be both,” Janet shrugged and patted Steve’s arm, pointing at her luggage as it came, “Get that for me, will you please? Thank you. It’s not mutually exclusive, bravery and foolishness. But you’ve got to try something for both, so, take a toss I suppose. And hope you get the right answer.”

“Well, I hope a bit of some Irish luck rubs in,” Steve quipped as he handed Janet her luggage, “Are you catching another flight now? Should I -”

“Oh no, I think I’ll stay here tonight,” Janet brushed him off amicably, “I know a place in Wales and they usually ring up a room for me with a bit of charm. What about you? Would you like to stay too?”

“No, I think I’ll find some other way,” Steve refused politely, looking for his own bag to come around, “I’ve got a schedule to keep and I’m sure I can get a ferry somewhere.”

“Alright then,” Janet accepted and held out her hand for a goodbye, “It was a pleasure meeting you, Steve.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Ms Van Dyne,” Steve smiled as he shook her hand and watched her go with her bag dragging behind her. She stopped a few feet away to turn back at him. 

“I hope you find the adventure that’s destined to change your life, Steve Rogers,” she called out, shooting him a lazy salute, “Don’t let the Irish luck blind you to it when it comes along!”

Steve waved back and turned around to get his bag, letting his interesting stranger move into the crowd. With a bit of a wait, he finally gathered his luggage and walked out the airport, confident about finding a ferry that could take him to his destination on time. 

“Next stop, Cork, and then, Dublin,” he muttered to himself and set forth to the nearest port, hoping that this would be the end of the complications in his journey. 


	2. Chapter 2

“This is a disaster.”

“It’s not a disaster, you’re being -”

Steve watched deadpan as Ronin Clinton cut himself mid-sentence to watch a rat pass around his feet, right into his bag. 

“No, you’re right. This is completely under control,” Steve said drily and ignored the look from his fellow passenger on the sole ferry that had agreed to sail into the waters after an hour of badgering. Steve had met Clinton, a ranch owner on business, when the younger blond had bumped into him at the harbour looking for a ferry just as Steve. They had managed to convince one of the guys to take a ferry out successfully, though Steve was currently beginning to regret his decision of ever getting into Mr. Wilson’s boat. 

“It’s the storm, there was a warning, wasn’t it?” Clinton reminded as he kicked at his bag till the rat scurried out. 

“Yes, but there’s still no reason for Mr. Wilson to think he’s - a pirate,” Steve looked over Clinton’s shoulder at the back of their confirmed mad fellow, “I think we should talk to him about getting ashore somewhere before the weather worsens.”

“Look, we’re the ones who pushed the guy to get this thing on the water in the first place, aren’t we?” Clinton rolled his eyes and winced when Wilson yelled something gibberish again, “So maybe he has fewer marbles in his head. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“I don’t know if -”

“Look, Mister Captain America,” Clinton said with a drawl, getting up to pick a couple of bottle of beer from the crate in the corner, “there’s no land right now for you to swim to, we haven’t crashed into an iceberg, and honestly, I think you’re taking your vacation way too seriously.”

“It’s not a vacation”

“So why don’t you pop a drink, and relax,” Clinton continued right over Steve, though he did shoot him a pointed look, “We’ll get where we have to in no time.” 

Steve considered arguing some more but then swallowed a sigh and took one bottle from Clinton with a nod. 

“Fine,” he agreed reluctantly, “but at the first sign of trouble, we do something.”

“Cross my heart and everything,” Clinton rolled his eyes and saluted with his bottle before taking a sip of the drink. Steve grimaced when he took his own sip and caught Clinton give him a judgemental look. Hoping to ease off his own nerves, Steve took another sip and soon drank the whole thing, much to Clinton’s clear amusement. 

“Hey,” Steve exclaimed a bit drowsily as he put the bottle down, “that wasn’t so bad after all.”

“Yeah,” Clinton replied thought Steve frowned as he started to hear things more muffled with passing time, “I’m sorry about this though. You’re a nice gu -”

Steve wanted to fight the exhaustion but felt himself dropping into the darkness even before he could hear Clinton complete the sentence. 

The first thing that Steve felt when he came awake was something wet on his face. The second thing was the dryness in his mouth. The third thing was so blinding that he jerked up abruptly. 

“Fucking -”

“Good. You’re awake.”

Steve squinted his eyes as the light moved away and blinked till the rainbow circles cleared into a face. 

“Who’re you?” he asked and the guy extended a hand to help Steve up. 

“Stan”

“Stan who?”

“Stan None-of-Your-Business,” the man replied and moved around, picking up Steve’s bag and pushing it into his arms, “Here, the other guy told to give you this when you woke up. Oh and one more thing, wait.” 

Steve rubbed a hand over his face and gripped his bag tighter, frowning at Stan when the old guy handed him a folded piece of paper. 

“What’s this?” he asked as he took it but Stan had already moved towards the nearby bench. 

“Your boyfriend’s love letter, what do I know?” he shrugged and looked at Steve over his shoulder, “The blond just told me to give you these when you woke up and paid me a bunch of these beer in return. Said you’d had one too many to drink.”

“One too drugged more like,” Steve muttered darkly and grit his jaw as he opened the note. 

_ Hey Rogers, _

_ I hope you’re not dead. I think you slipped past unconscious into just sleeping at some point. Sorry. I didn’t mean to harm you but I needed the money. Don’t worry, Dingle’s a good place and you’re kinda smart too. Even though you just got conned, which again, sorry. I didn’t take all the cash, just what I needed. Hope you have fun in Ireland.  _

 

  * __Clint__



 

_ P.S: Stan’s been paid so don’t give the geezer anything. Good luck, Cap! _

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Steve swore, shutting his eyes for a minute before he reopened them to find Stan eyeing him shrewdly. 

“Bad day, huh?” the man asked him and Steve didn’t know where to begin. 

“You know any place I can find a cab and a room for the night?” he asked instead and Stan smirked. 

Twenty minutes, a whole lot of dirt, and uncomfortably wet clothes later, Steve found himself at the gate of  _ The Iron Man _ . His shoes were caked with mud and his hair was a mess of tangle but Steve only hoped that some of his famed Irish luck would finally set in. 

“Please,” he muttered to himself as he shot a look heavenward, “no more surprises.”

With one last deep breath, he pushed the door open and entered the pub, dragging his luggage with him. One look at the place and Steve’s hopes dimmed but he nevertheless looked at the bar, where a couple of old men had paused mid-talk with the bartender. 

“Hello,” Steve greeted and ignored the squelch in his shoes when he took a step forward, “Any of you gents know if I can find some cab to Dublin from here?”

“Sure,” the bartender answered, exchanging looks with the other guys, “as long as you’ve got a bit of good cash to spare. It’s not a cheap trip.”

“Great,” Steve smiled tightly and dug out his phone, wincing at the low battery in it before looking back up at the men, “Any chance I could use your phone for a call?”

“There’s a phone right there,” the bartender pointed to one against the wall around the corner and Steve looked hopeful but the older man continued, “but the lines are out. It’s a storm out there tonight, kid.”

“Yeah, that it is,” Steve said with a suppressed sigh, walking up to the bar and sitting on one of the stools, “Well, it’s been a brilliant day so far. You think I could get some water?”

The bartender eyed him sympathetically and nodded as he grabbed a glass. 

“That I can do, son.”

As water passed onto beer and the men got chatting, the bartender and owner Chester looked thoughtful till he finally cut into the chat. 

“Wait,” he pointed at Steve, “Wait, I think there might be a way. You need a car, right?”

“At this point, I’ll take anything,” Steve sipped his beer and looked up at Chester, “Why, you got a spare one I can use?”

“No, but I have someone who might have one,” Chester replied and gestured for Steve to wait before he disappeared up the stairs. Steve rubbed at his forehead and contemplated sleeping at the counter when he heard footsteps and a stranger’s voice accompanying Chester. 

“Good God _ , _ Phillips, fine, fine, I’m coming,” the voice announced in an irritated tone and Steve was way too tired till he heard the voice come closer, “What’s - whoa. Who’s Mr. Drunk Pilates Model here?”

“I’m not drunk and I don’t do pilates,” Steve grunted, slowly looking up from the counter. His eyes fell on a dark-eyed brunet with a strangely good-looking goatee, a Bruce Lee meme t-shirt, and the world’s weirdest ducklings patterned pajamas. 

“Yeah, you don’t look so hot yourself, handsome,” the stranger commented, a teasing smirk on his face and knowing gleam in his eyes. 

“You just called me a model,” Steve reminded him absently, looking at Chester, “Who’s this?”

“This,” the stranger introduced before Chester could speak, an amused look on his face as he eyed Steve, “is Tony. And who might you be?”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve replied, squinting at Tony, “Why’re you here?”

“That’s funny, I was gonna ask Mr. Phillips here the same thing,” Tony looked at Chester and raised a brow, “What am I doing here? In the middle of the night?”

“Rogers needs to get to Dublin,” Chester informed him drily, “Haven’t you been yapping about going there yourself? You can go now, and take him with you.”

“Why would I do that?” Tony frowned between Steve and Chester, “Not the helping part, Mr. Frowny, no, I’m talking to Phillips here. Phillips, my good man -”

“Don’t care”

“Why would I -”

“Really don’t care”

“I could pay -”

“Do care but it’s fine right now,” Chester quipped and sighed, “Look, you’ve got the only car right now that could take this boy to Dublin without charging him a horse and carriage’s fee. And seeing as you could use a reason to finally go to the damn city yourself, this is your chance.”

“It almost feels like you’re throwing me out of the house,” Tony said with a somber expression that cleared when Chester snorted. 

“You’ve been here for a week, and this isn’t your home,” he waved the guy’s protests off before looking him in the eye, “I’m not gonna force you, but it’s something to think about. Just saying.”

Tony glared at Chester for a minute before sighing and making his way to Steve. 

“So,” he said as he plopped onto the seat beside Steve, crossing his arms on the counter, “what’s your story, Rogers? Tell me a good one and I’ll decide if you get a free ride to Dublin.”

“I’m going to propose to my ex-girlfriend so that I can have a family,” Steve mumbled into his arms and heard a pause before Tony spoke again. 

“Yeah, okay, this one’s gonna need some time, clearly.”

By the time Steve had ended his story, Tony looked between constipated and bursting with laughter, with a mix of sympathy added in. 

“You’re either the smartest dumbass I’ve met or the dumbest smartass, and frankly both seem entertaining,” Tony said and gave Steve’s arm a light pat as he got up, “Alright Cappuccino, you’ve got yourself a ride to Dublin.”

“What’s the catch,” Steve asked with a frown and Tony shrugged. 

“Don’t have one,” he answered, “Don’t need one.”

“The last time someone tried to help me out without anything in return, I got drugged and robbed,” Steve informed with a pointed look when Tony winced. 

“Yeah, okay, gotcha,” he said and looked thoughtful for a minute before he spoke, “How about this? I drive you to Dublin and you do me a favour when we get there.”

“What’s the favour?”

“Can’t tell you till we reach there,” Tony shook his head, shooting Steve a tight smile, “Don’t worry, it won’t be something you can’t do.”

“How do you know what I can or cannot do?”

“Rogers,” Tony leaned in a bit and caught Steve’s gaze with an amused look, “I’m pretty sure a guy who’s risking a proposal to his ex who has once rejected a proposal, can do the favour I’ll ask. It’ll be a piece of cake after your thing.”

“You’re crazy,” Steve informed Tony tiredly and the man chuckled. 

“Jury’s out but sure, maybe,” he answered and took a step back, “Alright, Rogers, get some rest tonight. We’ll leave first thing in the morning. Goodnight, Phillips, gentlemen.”

Steve thought that he mumbled a thank you but he couldn’t be too sure. His exhaustion was too heavy for him to do anything other than accept Chester’s offer of sleeping in the storage room where a spare cot was kept. As he collapsed into sleep, Steve imagined Ms. Van Dyne grinning at him and wishing him good luck for something. 

He wasn’t sure what it meant but didn’t have energy to decipher it either. 

\----

Steve knew that it was a terrible idea even before he got into the car parked in front of the pub, luggage loaded into the back. The morning sun was pleasant and the air wasn’t too cold to nip, but Steve wasn’t in the best of moods as he eyed the car-door without moving. 

“Anytime today, buddy,” Tony called out from the driver’s seat and Steve exhaled sharply, already regretting this decision. 

“You’ve got a map or a GPS?” Steve asked as he climbed into the car, shutting the door behind him, “Getting lost in the middle of nowhere would be worse.”

Tony shot him a look before he turned on the GPS system - that didn’t look like GPS.

“What’s that?” Steve asked with wary curiosity and thankfully didn’t jump when a British voice came through. 

“Hello, sir. Welcome back,” the voice spoke and Steve frowned at the system, “Are we going on a trip today?”

“Yeah, J, you, me, and the good Captain here are going to Dublin,” Tony replied as he started the ignition and looked over at Steve, “Say hi to Steve, J.”

“Hello, Steve,” the voice spoke and Steve raised his brows at Tony. 

“It’s my AI,” Tony explained casually, “Name’s JARVIS. He works a lot better than any GPS and does a lot more too. He’s a good man in a storm, aren’t you, J?”

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS replied and Tony waved goodbye to Chester, prompting Steve to do so too. 

“Ready?” Tony asked and Steve’s answer was lost when he started the car before it, pulling into the road smoothly, “Here’s to a new adventure, Rogers!”

Steve elected not to reply and instead looked out the window, breathing out his nerves as much as possible. 


	3. Chapter 3

“But why?”

Steve had the patience of a teacher who had explained to a teenager why painting cat penises for an entire semester was not accepted as prolific work. He also had the perseverance of herding a drunk Natasha and Sam home when all they wanted was to fight every person they met. Somehow, both those qualities were being tested to their limits by nothing more than Tony, the self-claimed ‘futurist’s questions and comments. 

“Why what?”

“Why would anyone be bothered by what someone at a movie theatre jeers?” Tony elaborated and Steve shot him an incredulous look. 

“Because it was disrespectful and insensitive,” he replied and turned further in his seat when Tony made a face, “What? You don’t think that’s wrong? Being disrespectful and insensitive?”

“It’s not about me, why would this be about me?” Tony shook his head and swiped the screen of the car display, “Wow, there’s some hail predicted, that’s great. Anyway, what I’m saying is - I’m saying that it’s not that big a deal. Jerks yell, it happens.”

“It happens,” Steve echoed and scoffed with a shake of his head, “Really. That’s exactly what irresponsible politicians say about dangerous laws. That’s what the people say about the shootings, that sole incidents such as them ‘happen’.”

“Okay, how is a movie theatre connected to the NRA, come on,” Tony smoothly turned the wheel and let the accelerator catch a bit more weight when the road was clearer, “That’s just an overreaction.”

“It’s the principle of the thing. The entitled behaviour,” Steve disagreed and counted off on his palm, “A guy talks shit in the theatre and the crowd ignores it. The guy talks more shit at a protest rally and the public ignores it. He goes on to use a bit of action with his talk and people notice but don’t want to ‘overreact’. And the reaction comes only when he goes over-the-top about his bullshit?”

“Now you’re just being general and presumptive,” Tony waved his free hand, “A jerk yells in the theatre and you make a video of it to put on Twitter, let his image get ruined. Picking a fight and breaking some bones won’t have the same impact and won’t be quite equal to the stimulus either.”

“Twitter is not - watch the turn - I have nothing against Twitter,” Steve clarified, “I think social media is a powerful me-”

“No, you don’t,” Tony laughed and Steve tried to glare at him but Tony simply raised a challenging brow, “You would blow up within a day on Twitter. You’d be the king of passive-aggressive thread wars. I think I’d pay actual money to watch you go through Twitter for a week. Scratch that, I’d pay a fortune to watch you go through  _ Tumblr _ for a week. Oh my God, now that’s a recipe for entertainment.”

“My main purpose in life, entertainment,” Steve rolled his eyes even as Tony laughed at his scowl, “Anyway, the guy deserved it.”

“Alright, I got it,” Tony hummed and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, “So, Mr. #SorryNotSorry, wanna hear some music?”

“I think my eardrums are still torn from the last try,” Steve made a face but addressed JARVIS next, “JARVIS? Do you have anything that isn’t Tony’s brand of ‘blast my ears’?”

“Better be loud than unheard, Steven,” Tony declared and Steve ignored him as he went through the list JARVIS had displayed, “Found something yet?”

“Yeah, JARVIS, please play the Radiohead list?” Steve answered and shrugged when Tony shot him an impressed look, “What? I like them.”

“We found a similarity,” Tony commented in a dramatic tone, “The hail predictions might very well come true right now.”

Steve closed his eyes when  _ Creep _ was halfway through and let the music wash over him, only to open his eyes when Tony swore.

“What?” Steve turned to see cows on the road, walking haphazardly, one almost hitting the car. It was a split second decision when it happened and Steve could hear the horror in Tony’s voice when Steve yelled left and Tony turned but then another cow came in between, causing Tony to take a sharp swerve. Steve didn’t think before he grabbed Tony and pulled, one hand removing the seatbelts and the other tucking a yelling Tony to his chest before he just jumped out of the car. 

Right before it went off the road, head first into a nearby swamp. 

Steve broke their fall and didn’t wince at the scrapes on his arms but then Tony pushed at him till he let go. 

“What,” Tony turned on him as he got to his feet on unstable but firm legs, “The. Fuck. Why the hell did you do that?!”

“Because we’d be in the swamp with our heads bashed in right now!” Steve pointed at the car as he got up to his feet too, “What did you expect me to do?!”

“Anything that didn’t land our only means of transportation in a literal swamp!” Tony threw his hands up in the air and Steve ran his hand through his hair before walking towards the swamp.

Steve eyed the car stuck in the swamp and sighed, shaking his head. 

“We need to get back our luggage,” he said and heard Tony’s groan. 

“We need to get a car,” Tony replied and Steve nodded. 

“You get the car and I’ll get the luggage,” Steve offered but Tony shook his head before Steve could finish the sentence. 

“I  _ did _ get a car. A really beautiful car,” he pinched the bridge of his nose lightly, “You wanna hitch a new ride, get one yourself.”

“Fine,” Steve replied curtly, “I’ll do both.”

There was silence for exactly five minutes before Tony sighed and Steve saw him going closer to the swamp while Steve looked out for another care to pass-by. He didn’t get a chance to see what Tony was planning when a red old truck came along and Steve stood waving for it to stop. 

“Hi,” the driver of the truck called out as she stopped, eyeing both the men before she looked at Steve, “You boys having trouble?”

Steve explained the situation with relief and managed to get her to agree to give them a lift till the nearest bus stop. 

“Actually, do you mind waiting?” Steve asked, looking back at their own car and Tony who was getting down into the swamp carefully, “I’ll just go get our luggage. Just a minute, alright?”

“Sure,” the blonde agreed and Steve made his way into the swamp. 

“What’re you doing?” Tony called out, eyes on the ground as he inched closer to the car, “I’ll get it, stay on the ground up!”

“I can carry better!” Steve replied and reached the car through the sludge, reaching in through the windows to drag out whatever he could get. 

“What - Steve, don’t do that,” Tony reached the other side of the car and dragged Steve’s carry-on bag out, catching sight of Steve trying to push the luggage up to their new blonde helper, “That’s not the best idea, buddy.”

“Focus and get out of here soon,” Steve retorted, finally pushing up his luggage where the lady caught it and nodded, “Great! Tony, come on, now we have to get out - hey. Hey!”

Steve tried to scramble out of the swamp faster when he saw the lady throw the luggage in her truck and hop into the driver’s seat, yelling when she drove off. 

“Dammit!” Steve cursed but Tony simply sighed.

“Let’s just get out of here, come on,” he suggested and both of them came out completely dirty and with Steve’s carry-on bag in hand. 

“Please don’t say ‘I told you so’,” Steve said as soon as they got to the road and Tony exhaled, shaking his head as he eyed the road ahead. They both stared at the road before looking back at each other. 

“I don’t think ‘I told you so’ will get us a ride,” Tony said and Steve nodded tightly but then the brunet smirked sharply, “but I do see something coming that could be something better.”

Steve frowned and followed his gaze, slowly grinning himself when he realized what Tony meant. 

“Oh, I could work with this.”

Ten minutes later, Steve was yelling to be heard over the wind as they raced after their thief in a bike Tony had somehow convinced its owner to  _ sell _ to them.

“There!” Tony yelled, pointing ahead when he caught sight of a familiar truck, “she’s turning, she’s turning!”

“I see her, hold on!” Steve yelled back as he gunned the bike, Tony laughing in his ear. He knew that the lady had caught sight of them when the truck began speeding up too and they kept chase of it till they reached a bar where the truck parked. 

“Tony - wait!” Steve parked the bike and went after Tony, who had jumped off as soon as the truck had parked, following their thief into the bar. 

Five minutes later, they both were pushed out of the bar, with Steve’s knuckles red from punching a drunk who had tried to act macho and Tony trying to convince the crowd that were out for their blood. 

“Alright, alright, sorry,” Tony finally dragged Steve away and moved from the bar, picking up their luggage, “We’ll leave now. Sorry again, for the table!”

This time Steve wasn’t surprised when their new-found bike was missing and helped Tony drag the luggage down the road when they found out from Tony’s phone that the nearest railway station wasn’t far off. 

“You alright there, Cap?” Tony asked as they walked, sneaking glances at Steve as he tried to get dirt off his shirt sleeves, “You’ve been a bit silent.”

“I’m fine,” Steve said, sighing when Tony shot him a clearly disbelieving look, “Just - the worst Irish luck I could get  _ had _ to be on this trip, of course.”

“So you  _ are _ Irish, huh?” Tony kicked at a pebble and quirked his lips, “Born?”

“Born and brought up in Brooklyn,” Steve shook his head, nodding when Tony looked intrigued, “My parents were Irish. They settled down in Brooklyn after marriage.”

“Any family?”

“Just friends,” Steve smiled ruefully but Tony eyed him with an understanding that passed in a flash as he nodded. 

“That sounds familiar,” he commented quietly and Steve looked at him but there was no hint that Tony would elaborate. Steve accepted that, knowing that some things were a bit more complicated than you expected the world to understand. They reached the station with minimum complaints from Tony and Steve got them tickets for the next train as Tony looked for water to freshen up. When he came back, he had better news. 

“There’s a house a bit up there,” he pointed to a spot that was up a hilly slope, “We could wait there till the train comes. Freshen up, change our clothes maybe?”

Steve hesitated but looked at Tony’s excited expression and agreed, feeling guilty about landing them in this mess in the first place. 

The house was owned by an older couple who were happy to help them out, the wife brushing away all hesitation. 

“I’ll get some tea and food for you two, Good Lord, you look exhausted,” Mrs. Parker looked sympathetic, “Would you two like to get some rest?”

“We have a train to catch soon, ma’am,” Steve informed but Mrs. Parker waved it off.

“I’ll wake you up in time, no worries,” she insisted and Steve shared a look with Tony who shrugged before agreeing. Steve was sure that he wouldn’t get any sleep but between his head hitting the sofa and the setting in fatigue of the day, he slipped into sleep. 

Only to be woken up by a pounding noise and Tony yelling. 

“Steve! Wake up!,” Tony yelled and Steve jerked awake, falling off the sofa as he looked to see the other man pounding on the door, “It’s locked! Rogers, the train!”

Steve shared a horrified look with Tony just as they both heard the sound of a train. 

“Break the door, break the goddamned door!” Tony grunted as he tried to pry the windows open in the kitchen. 

“We can’t break their door!” Steve yelled even as he rattled it.

“WE’RE LOCKED IN THEIR HOUSE, STEVEN!” Tony yelled back and Steve cursed before he began kicking at the door. 

They finally managed to break the door after a minute and raced out, fumbling and flying down the hilly area, shouting for the train. It was the worst nightmare come to life when they both saw the train leave the station even as they raced down towards it.

“HEY! HEY, WAIT!,” Steve ran, feet losing balance a few times as he tried to catch the train, “WAIT A SECOND!”

He jogged to a halt when the train was well out of the station and Steve bent down, resting his hands on his knees and shutting his eyes in frustration.

“Jesus fuck,” Tony panted as he finally reached, coming to a halt near Steve, “I’m never going to trust a person who gives me tea again, shit!”

Steve didn’t reply but looked up to stare at the path where they’d lost their train, wondering if the universe was giving him some hints about how well this trip was going to end. 

“When’s the next train?” he asked instead and Tony tried to catch his breath as he squinted at the announcements. 

“I think it’s tomorrow morning. Fuck,” he cursed again and Steve shook his head as he looked at Tony. 

“We’re gonna do no good waiting here now,” he said and looked around before finding the station master eyeing them from a distance, “Hold on, let me find out something. Excuse me? Sir?”

The station master, a grim looking lanky fellow, informed them that Tony was right about the next train being in the morning. He also told them that the Parkers had left to go to the doctor’s and he had met them on the way. 

“I think they forgot that they’d locked the door,” he explained and Steve ignored Tony’s mumble about it, “You two look like you need a place to stay the night. Why don’t you go back to the Parkers? I’m sure that -”

“Nope,” Tony said right away, smiling tightly when the station master looked at him, “Sorry but we, uh, wouldn’t want to be a bother to them after this. It’s fine.”

Steve stifled a grin at the clear frustration Tony was hiding towards the sweet old couple. 

“Alright,” the station master accepted and eyed Steve before offering, “There’s another place you might get a room then, come along.”

Steve shared a look with Tony who sighed deeply but nodded, dragging himself along as they began walking again. 

The place the guy mentioned turned out to be his own home and he told them that he’d go call his wife. 

“Hello,” his wife greeted them, a brunette with a warm face and quiet eyes, “Viz told me about you two. It sounds terrible, all the trouble you had. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“We wouldn’t want to impose,” Steve assured but the lady shook her head.

“No, it’s fine. I run a small bed-and-breakfast here sometimes when it’s tourist season. I’m Wanda, by the way,” she introduced herself and looked at Tony, “We just have a bit of trouble with the unmarried ones sometimes, but that’s no trouble with you two, apparently.”

Steve looked at Tony, who quickly gathered Wanda’s misunderstanding about them, but beat Steve to the explanation. 

“Yes, of course, no trouble with us. Is there, honey?” the shorter man smiled sweetly at Steve, shooting him a pointed look before turning back to Wanda, “Any chance we could get a shower and a bed?”


	4. Chapter 4

Steve tried to burn a hole through Tony’s head when the door shut to their bedroom and Wanda left them alone. 

“Before you say anything,” Tony raised a hand and walked towards the bathroom, “I just want to explain myself.”

“Really,” Steve asked with an edge to his tone, “You have an explanation for why you lied that we’re  _ married _ ?”

“Yes, absolutely”

Steve waited for a minute where Tony was silent before throwing his arms up. 

“Well, what is it?!”

“I needed a shower and a bed,” Tony gestured towards the bed, grinning winningly at Steve when he looked frustrated, “Look, it’s just one night. Nobody’s gonna mind this little white lie. After all we’ve been through lately, we deserve to have one little lie, Steve, come on.”

“This is a  _ little _ lie?” Steve asked archly and Tony rolled his eyes as he pulled open the curtain to the bathroom.

“Whatever makes you sleep better, Cap, size doesn’t matter to me,” he quipped and Steve shot him a dirty look at the wink he got when Tony gestured to the shower, “Listen, I’m just gonna pop in and try to wash up. Hopefully stop stinking of the entire day. You don’t mind, do you? Of course not, thanks!”

Steve cut himself short and buried his face in his hands as he sat on the sole bed when Tony closed the curtain behind him. 

“What if they ask questions?” Steve asked, continuing the conversation even as he heard water running, “We’ve already had a bunch of trouble today.”

“I’m sure your active imagination will help you come up with something!” Tony called back and Steve looked up without thinking, catching sight of Tony’s silhouette through the curtain for a long minute before he looked away, “Or you could just enthrall them with your story of this trip. And your brilliant plan to propose.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asked with a frown, trying hard to not look up at the curtain.

“Nothing,” Tony replied and Steve looked up, “Just saying that it’s a bit - different- that you’re proposing to someone who’s never been interested in marrying you.”

“And by ‘different’ you mean dumb,” Steve interpreted but Tony simply hummed noncommitedly.

“Hey, to each their own, but yeah. It does sound like you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak,” Tony replied and Steve opened his mouth but then the curtain parted to Tony coming out with a towel wrapped around his waist, shrugging at Steve, “If I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you were a bit of an obsessed weirdo.”

“You  _ don’t _ know me,” Steve countered, trying to ignore that Tony was wet and almost naked in front of him, “And I’ve known Sharon for years now. I know what went wrong the last time and it’s not like I’m going to persist if she says no.”

“Steve, if there’s anything I’ve learnt about you,” Tony laughed as he walked across to their bags, bending to get some clothes out, “it’s that you persist no matter what, no matter where.”

“I wouldn’t -”

“But sure, I do believe that you’d be nice about it,” Tony continued and Steve averted his eyes when Tony began dressing, “See? You’re nice to even strangers.”

“Not gawking at naked people is pretty basic for decency,” Steve muttered and kept his eyes averted even as Tony laughed again. 

“Alright you can look now,” Tony called out after a few minutes and Steve looked to see Tony dressed in a fresh shirt, “I’m gonna go see if we can find some dinner. The shower’s all yours. See you downstairs. Honey.”

Steve made a face as Tony left the room with a smirk but did nevertheless use the shower gratefully. 

Dinner was an informal affair with Wanda and her husband being joined by Wanda’s brother and his wife too. Steve saw Tony laughing with Pietro’s wife about some joke and smiled tentatively when their eyes met, Tony looking momentarily fond. 

It was a nice dinner till the couples started recalling their love stories and Wanda turned to Steve to ask him about theirs. 

“The proposal?” Steve echoed and cleared his throat at Wanda’s encouraging nod, “Well, uh, it wasn’t very interesting.”

“Oh come on,” Crystal, Pietro’s wife, argued, “it doesn’t matter. You two got married anyway, didn’t you? Let us decide how boring or interesting it is.”

“Exactly,” Wanda agreed and Steve shot a frantic look at Tony who took pity on him.

“We were on vacation in China,” Tony began and Steve bit back a frown at the easy lie slipping out, “I had a bit of business with a doctor there and I’d asked this one here to join me for a vacation after.”

“Where did you propose? You were the one who proposed, weren’t you?” Crystal asked and Steve saw Tony laugh in a self-deprecating way. 

“Yeah, it was me,” he nodded and smiled slightly, “It was on a cruise. I’ve always had a bit of an extravagant streak in me, much to his exasperation sometimes, but - I guess the occasion called for it.”

Steve tried to meet Tony’s eyes but the brunet seemed lost in some memory and Steve gathered that this wasn’t exactly a lie, even if Steve’s presence in it was.

“I wanted to try something old school, romantic,” Tony continued and Steve felt like he was intruding on a private memory but stayed silent, “So I arranged for a date on the cruise, wrote a poem and asked for a dance to our favourite song.”

“A poem?” Wanda sounded enchanted and Steve smiled weakly when she shot him an appreciative look, “That sounds romantic. What was the poem?”

Tony blinked out of his memory and looked at Wanda before Steve saw his performative smile come on. 

“ _ Cerulean love and paper promises, Give me all the memories you have, _ ” Tony stood up from his seat and walked around to Steve, a teasing smile on his lips as he held Steve’s eyes, “ _ On a list of past love and present moment; Give me your hand in return for a heart more than halve” _

Steve felt his heart slow or skip a beat when Tony bent over him and leaned in, ignoring the others. 

“ _ Take my time, and all what world couldn’t pry, _ ” he continued as he slowly lowered his hand to catch Steve’s hand, raising it to his lips, “ _ Promise me nothing but one moment of you now, witness to the clouds over a century sky _ .”

Steve heard the others applaud and cheer but his focus was stuck on Tony’s eyes as the man gently pressed a kiss to Steve’s knuckles before standing up straight. 

“Thank you,” Tony took a bow and Steve cleared his throat, ducking his head in a nod when Wanda clapped him on the back and smiled politely at Pietro when the man nodded at him. The rest of the dinner went by faster than he wanted and soon Steve was back in the bedroom with a quieter Tony. 

Steve tried to think of a tactful way to ask but when Tony wished him goodnight and offered to sleep on the chair, he skipped over his words. 

“That was a beautiful poem,” he said even as Tony paused, “I’m sure your partner was a lucky person.”

“Yeah?” Tony asked quietly before he continued in a bitter voice, “The result sure didn’t seem like it.”

“Tony, I -”

“Don’t, Rogers,” Tony cut him off curtly, shooting him a cold smirk, “After all, we both know that you’ve got some really disillusioned notions of what love could be. Save it for when you have your own proposal, alright?”

Steve felt stung but didn’t have a chance to discuss when Tony turned in his chair and curled up, shutting his eyes and effectively avoiding Steve. Feeling confused and bitter himself, Steve went to bed too, but sleep evaded him for a long while that night. 

When he woke up in the morning, Steve felt a bit fresher but frowned at the absence of Tony in the room. Debating his choices for a few minutes, Steve decided to look for the man anyway. If Tony’s mood was sour even now, well - they’d discuss what they could, he supposed. 

What he didn’t expect through, was to find Tony in the kitchen, in last night’s clothes. 

“Hi,” Tony smiled sheepishly at him when he saw Steve and Steve smiled back, glad that Tony didn’t seem bitter anymore, “Good morning. I was just making us some breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to,” Steve said even as he walked closer to see what Tony was making, “Are those eggs?”

“Yeah,” Tony looked down at his pan before looking at Steve with a shrug, “I figured apologies were better with food, and Wanda said she didn’t mind as long as I could get some tea going for her too. She’s gone to get some vegetables from the garden nearby.”

“Apology?” Steve asked as he settled down on the stool in front of the counter.

“For last night,” Tony made a face and shot Steve an apologetic hint of a smile, “I shouldn’t have made you feel uncomfortable and then snapped at you later. Sorry about that.”

Steve nodded in lieu of a reply and watched Tony finish up the eggs, teasing him about his cooking skills as the morning settled into a warm comfort. 

When they bid their hosts farewell, Steve saw Wanda whisper something in Tony’s ear but didn’t ask him about it as they hiked their way back to the railway station. It felt good to have a bit of quiet and ease after all the madness. 

Which was why it was obvious when it began raining hail halfway through their hike. 

“You were right!” Tony laughed as they ran to find a shelter, “You  _ do  _ have the worst Irish luck!”

“Not as bad as yours!” Steve shot back with a grin as they bounded up an unknown building’s steps, “You voluntarily got stuck with me!”

“I didn’t expect this level of shit hell!” Tony quipped as they opened the door to - 

A wedding that they interrupted. 

“Gentlemen,” the priest asked after a moment of absolute silence and the stares of the odd crowd gathered, “do you have a reason why these two should not be united in matrimony?”

Tony was about to explain when Steve’s eyes fell on an extremely familiar face standing beside the groom and he spoke even before he thought. 

“Clinton, you thief!”

“Clint?” the groom turned to his best man with a frown and the man in question stared at Steve in horror. 

“Oh shit!” Clint said before the entire thing went to hell in a handbasket. 

It took a lot of yelling, some real interpretation from Tony and bride, and the groom’s drunk uncle for Steve to agree to talk to Clint in private. 

“You better have a good reason for me to not punch you in the face,” Steve warned when he followed Clint into one of the back rooms, “Actually, I’m pretty sure you’re gonna get punched no matter the reason.”

“I really would like to not have a broken nose at my brother’s wedding,” Clint tried joking but winced at Steve’s murderous expression before nodding, “Okay, okay, I know. I know that I was terrible and you probably should call the cops on me but.”

“There is no but.”

“Just -,” Clint raised his hands in surrender, “hear me out for a minute? Please?”

Steve considered refusing but took a breath and nodded, prompting Clint to tell him about his reason, about the money he needed to bail his brother out after his ex foster dad had framed him and the way Clint had tried looking for Steve once he had got his brother out. 

“I know I did a shitty thing,” the younger man said, looking Steve in the eye, “I know none of my reasons make up for what I did to you but please, whatever you want to do, do it after the wedding? Barney’s been through enough and I just want him to have his wedding without any problems. You can call the cops as soon as the ceremony is over, but please, let this happen?”

Steve ran a hand through his hair and stared at Clint, looking at the desperate earnestness on his face. He knew that he could refuse and call the cops anyway but his eyes travelled past Clint towards the hall where the wedding party was waiting. Steve took a breath and exhaled hard, making his decision. 

“You have my wallet on you?” he asked and Clint blinked but nodded, “Good. Does it have money in it?”

Clint looked wary but nodded hesitantly. 

“Not completely,” he replied even though Steve shot him a look, “but yeah, your cards and other things along with some cash left.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded and pointed at Clint seriously, “Okay. You’re going to hand that over to me and we’re going to go back into that hall to tell the people that this was all a misunderstanding.”

“What -”

“And,” Steve spoke over Clint, “you are  _ never _ going to ever drug another person in your life. Ever. Is that understood?”

“Yeah, promise,” Clint replied, looking a bit awed before he cleared his throat, “So does this mean a no on the cops?”

“It means a second chance for you to keep your ass out of prison,” Steve said and nodded, “and a no on cops, yeah.”

“I would call you a naive sucker usually but this is one time I’m just glad,” Clint grinned and Steve narrowed his eyes even as Clint clapped him on the shoulder, “You know what, why don’t you and your pal stay for the wedding? We’ve got a small party planned after this. You guys could eat and then leave, huh? Come on, let me try to be nice to you, for real.”

“God help me,” Steve muttered but followed Clint out back into the hall, considering that the hail wasn’t stopping anytime soon. 


	5. Chapter 5

The wedding was beautiful and Steve found himself enjoying it despite the complete awkwardness of the previous situation. 

“You look happy,” he heard Tony comment and turned to see him approach Steve with a glass of soda, an amused look on his face, “Glad to get your wallet back?”

Steve pretended to think before nodding and Tony rolled his eyes even as he leaned against the counter beside Steve. 

“I’m just - having fun,” Steve shrugged and raised an eyebrow at the look Tony gave him, “What? What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Tony took a sip of his soda to hide a smile and Steve bumped his shoulder against him, “Hey, watch the normal-sized human, please. Can’t have ‘death by bumping’ written on my tombstone. Well, actually -”

“Shut up, Tony,” Steve chuckled and Tony faked a gasp but settled down with a nod. 

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” Tony said after a minute and Steve hummed in agreement, “I mean, it still is weird that you let a thief go because of a wedding, but hey, you  _ are _ weird so it makes sense I guess.”

“Don’t ruin the moment,” Steve suggested teasingly but gestured at a laughing Clint dancing with his girlfriend, “I know it sounds strange and not reasonable logically but - I’ve survived the worst and most frustrating situations in this trip, and somehow I get to attend a stranger’s wedding today. I mean, it’s probably not much but it’s pretty nice for a surprise, right?”

Tony observed Steve for a moment before looking back at the dance-floor. 

“Yeah, I suppose a bit of craziness puts life in different perspectives,” he quipped, making Steve glance at him but Tony’s eyes were trained at the wedding party. 

“I suppose it does,” Steve agreed quietly, and snorted when Tony bumped his shoulder. 

“Here,” Tony held out his hand and Steve frowned at it, “show me your palm, don’t worry, it’s not a bug or anything.”

“What is it?” Steve asked even as he held out his palm and saw Tony drop a ring, one of the napkin rings from the wedding arrangement. It was plain silver in colour and had a fake pearl embedded in the center. 

“Just in case you don’t get a good answer to your ring, you can have this memory,” Tony shrugged at Steve’s look, “You let two people have their happy moment, Cap. I figure it could be a highlight of this trip if your actual intended reason doesn’t work out.”

“Geez, what an optimist,” Steve commented even as he smiled a little at the gesture.

“You want something optimistic? Fine,” Tony made a hand gesture like a flourish, “May you get the hole if not the entire doughnut.”

“What?” Steve laughed and Tony grinned.

“Optimist’s Creed, can’t get any more optimistic than that,” he commented and ducked when Steve moved to bump him again. 

The evening went down well till Tony disappeared into the crowd and Steve watched him dance with people even as he himself refused to join, knowing that he couldn’t dance. There was something light about Tony, even from a distance, even through Steve suspected that he had a darker past and side to him. The man could be highly unpredictable and had the mind of twin kids, making people around him go through a rollercoaster of emotions every day. He wasn’t a guy Steve would have looked twice at for anything resembling a partnership but somehow, he had had more fun with the madness that came with Tony than he had through all the careful experiences he had crafted for himself ever since he had come back from the war. It was reliable, having a routine and an order, but Steve suspected that somewhere along the way, he had gotten a little too stuck on them. Too absorbed in how things  _ should _ be rather than how they  _ were _ . He could easily remember a hundred incidents in the past when he had refused to budge from his schedules and let surprises be fun instead of well-planned alone. Adventures were always a battle, making people challenges instead of joining people take on challenges in  _ situations _ . 

The whole line of realization made Steve’s throat close up and he eyed the punch glasses before picking one up. 

Watching Tony have fun, and confusion reigning his mind, Steve downed the drink without a second thought. 

\-----

“Whoa, Steve?”

Steve laughed at Tony’s expression when he joined him on the dance-floor and pulled the shorter man into his arms, shuffling his feet off-beat. 

“Hey, Tony,” he grinned and patted Tony’s face when the man looked concerned, “Don’t look like that, you look pretty when you’re smiling.”

“Okay, what’s going on right now, buddy?” Tony asked, maneuvering Steve’s hands to avoid him from fumbling over Tony, “Are you drunk?”

“No!” Steve laughed and whirled Tony around, “I just had that really good - really punchy stuff. And now I wanna dance.”

“Oh goody, you had the punch,” Tony bit back a yelp when Steve buried his face in Tony’s shoulder, “Bud, you’re totally wasted. That stuff was spiked. How much did you drink?”

“Dunno,” Steve mumbled into Tony’s shoulder and felt himself get sad, “I think I’m sad.”

There was a pause before Tony’s arms came around Steve and patted his back. 

“Right,” he said and cleared his throat, “Right, this will be a nightmare for you in the morning, so let’s just get out of here now, okay?”

“But I wanna dance!” Steve complained and Tony leaned back to look Steve in the eye with a pained smile. 

“I know, I know, honey,” he held Steve’s hands and pulled him along away from the crowd that was starting to notice them, “but we can dance quietly, right? It’ll be better, I promise.”

“You promise?” Steve asked and saw Tony falter before his hand squeezed Steve’s, “You’ll stay with me, right?”

“Yeah,” Tony said quietly before he led Steve to a calmer clearing, “Yeah, I’ll stay, Steve.”

When they reached the shore, Steve dragged Tony to a stop and smiled sloppily. 

“I wanna dance,” he insisted and awkwardly shuffled his feet, ending up stepping on Tony’s toes. “I’m sorry,” Steve said with wide eyes, looking sadly at Tony, “I’m sorry”

“It’s fine, Steve, I’m okay,” Tony tried assuring him but Steve shook his head. 

“It’s not fine,” he insisted and rubbed under his eyes, “ _ I’m _ not fine. I’m messed up.”

“Steve”

“That’s why I couldn’t be with Sharon,” Steve spoke on, oblivious to Tony’s gaze, “She was so good. She still is. I’m the one who keeps asking for more, expecting more, being completely selfish. That’s why she couldn’t stay, because I was a selfish jerk.”

“Hey, sometimes people are selfish,” Tony commented and Steve looked at him to see Tony look soft, “It’s not such a big crime. So you messed up. Doesn’t mean you’re messed up for life.”

“I  _ am _ , in here,” Steve poked at his chest, right above his heart and then placed his other palm over Tony’s heart, “How are you not messed up? What’s the secret?”

“Oh buddy, I’m definitely messed up too,” Tony shook his head and brought up his own hands to place over Steve’s, “At least you’re still trying.”

“No, but,” Steve shook his head and almost bumped his forehead against Tony’s when he took a step closer, “You like - you  _ like _ people and you’re funny. You write poems and stuff and - and you’re  _ kind _ .”

“So are you, Steve,” Tony smiled fondly, “but apparently not to yourself, that’s all.”

“I just -,” Steve leaned in closer, swaying but still holding Tony’s hand over his heart, “I want - I -”

“What do you want?” Tony asked quietly, meeting his eyes. 

“I want someone to like me,” Steve confessed, resting his forehead against Tony’s, tired of keeping things locked in his heart, “I want someone to just like me.”

“I’m sure a lot of people do,” Tony whispered but Steve shook his head, rubbing against Tony’s forehead.

“No, they like - they like the outer me,” Steve tried to explain but words were hard, “Big me. But nobody’ll like the inner me. Little me, y’know.”

“I don’t think I do completely but I know you’re not talking innuendos,” Tony answered and Steve groaned in frustration.

“Little me is inside me, here,” Steve pat Tony’s hand over his heart, “and he’s not - people don’t like that. It’s not nice. He gets mean and selfish and clingy. Ma always said that I have too many emotions inside and - I miss Ma. I miss Bucky. I miss everyone, even those who’re there. Because I’m not. Completely there always, right? I’m always a bit hidden and - it sucks.”

Tony didn’t say anything and Steve sighed, moving till he could rest his head on Tony’s shoulder while hugging him. Tony didn’t complain and hugged him back gently after a minute. 

“I think you’re gonna find out that you’re not as bad as you think you are, one day, Steve,” he said seriously, “But since that day isn’t today, let’s just get you some rest. Tomorrow might be a better day than you expect. Come on.”

Steve tried protesting but Tony coaxed him to get to walk along till they reached a place where they could rest for the night. 

He couldn’t say for sure but Steve imagined that someone let him sleep with his head on their lap and pet his hair till he fell asleep. 

It was a strangely comforting thought.

\--

When Steve woke up in the morning, Tony was still asleep and he took a moment to observe the man who had cared for him through an embarrassing night. Tony’s head was at an awkward angle and Steve knew that he would have a crick in his neck, but it was oddly nice to know that Tony had allowed him to rest his head properly when must have fallen asleep. Getting up and getting off the bench, which was in the bus stop he discovered from his surroundings, Steve left Tony to sleep a while more as he took the luggage with him to go run some errands. 

After buying two tickets with his recovered money and grabbing some coffee for both him and Tony, Steve went back to the bench to find Tony awake and holding his head in his hands. As Steve watched, Tony got up and walked towards the bus stop before shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. It gradually dawned on him that Tony thought Steve had left, now that he had got back his wallet and didn’t need Tony’s help. 

It was a bittersweet thought and Steve felt an urge to assure Tony that he wasn’t the type to abandon people, but that didn’t make sense, considering that they were just strangers who would part at their destination. 

Steve shook that thought off and walked forward towards Tony who turned around at the sound of footsteps and looked relieved for a minute before he covered it up. 

“Coffee?” Steve asked with a knowing look and Tony nodded as he accepted, looking in the direction of the buses. 

“I think we missed the first bus,” he said as he sipped at his coffee, looking back at Steve who shrugged. 

“I got tickets for the next bus,” Steve replied and Tony shook his head with a strangely fond expression that Steve resisted from calling out, instead drinking their coffee in silence. 

The bus ride was uneventful and Steve let the calm wash over him, enjoying the silence as much as he had the adventure before it. Tony had a lot of interesting stories from his past and Steve caught snippets of a past that was as colourful as the man who had lived it. He felt amused as Tony spoke enthusiastically about his best friend who was overseas on deployment, his ex-girlfriend who was now back to being a friend and had taken over Tony’s company when he had left for a break from his past. He caught himself imagining as Tony casually sneaked in incidents from a childhood at a mansion, a butler who was as kind as Tony’s father didn’t seem, a million references to the butler in most of the stories, a quiet fondness when Tony mentioned his mother for a moment. It was like watching a movie in real-time and Steve captured every story in his memory, hoping to carry it safely in the future. 

When they finally reached Dublin, Tony clapped his hands once and turned to see Steve.

“So”

“So,” Steve said back, an amused tilt to his voice. 

“We’re finally here,” Tony gestured around him and Steve nodded, looking around, “Where’s your launch venue?”

“What’s the rush?” Steve asked and Tony raised his brows, “We just got here finally. Let’s just - relax for a moment.”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with Steve Rogers?” Tony asked but Steve rolled his eyes and hooked an arm through Tony’s to pull him along to get a bite to eat. 

As they munched on street food and walked through a cobbled pathway in a park, Steve turned to Tony with a question. 

“Hey”

“Hmm?”

“What’s your favour?”

“What?” Tony frowned and looked at Steve who shrugged, biting into his sandwich. 

“You said you’d tell me the favour once we reached Dublin,” Steve explained, “We’re here now. What’s your favour?”

“Oh,” Tony looked stunned for a moment before he recovered and shook his head, “Nah, it’s nothing.”

“Come on,” Steve urged him, “It can’t be any worse than we’ve done or been through in the past couple of days.”

“No, it’s - it’s something I probably should do myself,” Tony sighed and it clicked in Steve’s mind. 

“It’s something to do with your butler, isn’t it? Jarvis?” he asked and Tony didn’t say anything, “I saw the way you spoke about him. Like you wanted to meet him but something was stopping you. He’s here, isn’t he?”

Tony shrugged but nodded slowly, looking at Steve with a rueful smile. 

“I left my past when my fiancee almost died,” he confessed, continuing when Steve didn’t interrupt, “We were on a cruise ship, the Century Sky cruise on Yangtze river. I had proposed to her in the afternoon and we were both very happy, even though she still maintained that I should take a break from work once in a while. I diverted her attention because - well, I couldn’t really imagine not working.”

Tony turned around and leaned against the railing they had stopped near, gathering his thoughts as he spoke. 

“A gunman entered our suite that night, when I was busy attending a business call outside and she was in the bedroom,” Tony swallowed and Steve could see the mix of emotions flash through his face, “One of the bullets hit her sternum and the other punctured her abdomen before she could hide. By the time I got to her, she had almost bled out, but you know what the worst part was? The worst part was that she was never the target. The gunman had been sent to kill me by a business rival and she had become the target just because she was associated with me. She almost died and when she didn’t, she told me that she was terrified of living with a man who’s first thought on knowing an assassination attempt was not to be safe but to exact revenge.”

Steve let the silence weigh when Tony paused, the gravity of the words not needing any consolations.

“We broke up,” Tony continued and shrugged, “and I decided to understand what I had become over the years. It was too much - to process without taking accountability for what my actions had caused. I had to work on myself instead of covering it up with a relationship.”

Steve swallowed hard at that and Tony caught his eyes, shaking his head.

“You’re not me, Steve,” he guessed correctly, “and no matter how your plan goes, I know that you can survive. Sure, I do think that sometimes a journey is more important than an ending, but if this is what you want, then you should try.”

“And Jarvis?”

“Jarvis was my parents’ most loyal friend,” Tony smiled softly, “I was in Italy before I came here and my aunt said that my mom had a match to my dad’s ring. I have my dad’s ring but I never found my mom’s. A bit of digging revealed that she had given it to Jarvis for safekeeping when she had last left home. Apparently my mom had plans to come back to my father before both of them died in the same month in separate crashes. Ironic, huh?”

“You want to unite them,” Steve realized, “the rings.”

“I figure somebody should do it,” Tony agreed and Steve nodded. 

“I think it’s what they deserve,” he said and paused before adding, “And what you deserve too. Jarvis would love to see you again, Tony.”

“You don’t know that,” Tony laughed but Steve shook his head seriously. 

“If he was as close to you as I see from your stories, he’d always love to see you,” Steve promised, “I know you’re all about the future, but sometimes the past isn’t all that bad either.”

Tony eyed Steve for a minute before slinging an arm around his shoulders. 

“Alright, Captain Right,” he said as he guided Steve towards the main road, “let’s get to our schedules then. Time to get to your venue now.”

\----

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? I did promise a favour.”

“Steve,” Tony looked at Steve before he put the carry-on bag down, “I’ll be fine. And if you wanna talk about favours, let’s just say that we’re even.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Steve insisted and Tony sighed before he reached into his own sling-bag and pulled out a small black book. 

“Fine, you want to do a favour? Take this,” Tony handed it to Steve, “It’s my old notebook. It’s a collection of all my past memories that I probably should let go of. I’m passing it to you now. This is your favour. Okay?”

“Does this have your poem?” Steve asked as he eyed the smooth leather cover.

“Yeah,” Tony said and clapped Steve’s shoulder, “consider the debts paid now.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to meet Sharon?” Steve asked for the third time since they had come to the venue.

“No, this seems like something you should do alone,” Tony teased and Steve could feel the awkwardness between them before Tony nodded once, “Alright, I should go now.”

“Hey, Tony?” Steve stopped him and Tony looked hopeful, “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

Tony looked at Steve for a moment, searching for something in his face before he exhaled and smiled. 

“You remember the story you liked in the book you borrowed from Wanda?” he asked and Steve nodded, remembering Liam O’Flaherty’s popular tale, “Well, let’s just say it’s time for your decision now. You’ve got to fly to get your fish, young seagull.”

“What does that mean?”

Tony opened his mouth to explain but they heard someone calling out Steve’s name and Steve turned to see Sharon coming towards them before looking back at Tony. 

“It means whatever you want it to mean,” Tony said before he leaned in and gave Steve a quick hug, leaving before Steve could hug him back. Steve watched Tony go without turning around till he felt someone tap on his shoulder and looked to see Sharon smiling at him. 

“I’m so glad you’re here!” she said and gave his arm a squeeze, “It’s been such a long time, I’ve got so many new things to talk to you about.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed in and smiled at Sharon, “I’ve got a couple of things to talk to you about too.”


	6. Epilogue - The beginning of a new adventure

“Hello, Mr. Stark’s office.”

“Hi, Bambi,” Tony waved at his secretary as he rushed into the office, gesturing at the conference room, “They here already?”

Bambi Arbogast shot Tony a pointed but fond look before nodding, even as she continued talking on the phone in a pleasant voice. Tony blew her a kiss and kept walking, cursing JARVIS for not setting two alarms in the morning. 

It had been a good six months since  _ Resilient _ had entered the green energy market and Tony had taken the business circles by storm again. Pepper had been initially angry at Tony for having slacked off for so long when he had finally returned to the States from Ireland eight months ago, but she had been happy when she noticed that he was lighter from his break. She had needed some convincing to let Tony spearhead  _ Resilient _ instead of come back to head SI in total but in the end she had given it her nod. It had taken long hours and endless hard-work but Tony was proud of what they had achieved and what they were striving for with every project. The Board was a bit of a pain at times but Tony had good experience in charm and persuasion with some firm pride where it felt needed. 

Now entering into a collaboration with Pym Technologies, Tony was looking forward to the new developments he had worked towards. 

After an hour of negotiations and discussions, he saw his guests off and collapsed into his chair with relief when Bambi knocked on the door. 

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, Mr. Stark,” Bambi looked politely apologetic, “but there’s someone here to meet you. Says it’s urgent.”

“Does he have an appointment?” Tony asked as he stretched his neck in his chair.

“No,” Bambi paused before continuing in a confused voice, “but he has a box of doughnuts and said that, and this is verbatim, ‘I’m here for the entire doughnut and not just the hole’. He also has a diary of yours he says he needs to return.”

Tony froze in his chair, neck tilted to the side before he calmly straightened up and looked at his secretary. 

“Blond, tall, handsome, and annoyingly earnest?” he asked and Bambi frowned but nodded. 

“I don’t know about the earnest part but the others seem true,” she said and Tony nodded in return, clearing his throat. 

“Yeah, I think it must be urgent,” he said, biting back his nervousness, shock, and growing excitement as he followed Bambi out into the lobby area where Steve Rogers was sitting on his sofa. 

“Hi, Tony,” Steve smiled and waved, looking exactly as wonderful as he had been the last time Tony had seen him. His heart beating in his chest, Tony waved back, affecting nonchalance. 

“Hey, Cap,” he greeted and walked over to see the box of Randy’s Donuts in Steve’s lap, “That for me?”

“Depends,” Steve answered, standing up when Tony raised a brow.

“On what?”

“On your answer”

Tony nodded and looked around before looking back at Steve. 

“You bring your fiancee too?” he asked and bit back a grin at the fond smile on Steve’s face. 

“Would have if I had one,” Steve shrugged and eyed Tony curiously, “Now are we done posturing or do I wait some more?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony said and Steve tilted his head in acknowledgement  even though he had a knowing look on his face.

“That’s okay, because I do. Finally, if I may say so,” Steve grinned and caught Tony’s gaze with his own steadily, “Eight months ago, when you left me with Sharon, I didn’t know what I wanted but thankfully I had understood what I didn’t want. She and I talked, and we agreed that we liked each other better when we were apart then. We’d had our time and it was a good time of our lives, but it wasn’t meant to be forced or recreated. So I attended her launch, met her girlfriend Maria -”

“Wow”

“- and came back home,” Steve continued despite Tony’s interjection, “I read your notebook and didn’t recognize a lot of it from the person I had met at first. It was quite a reality-check.”

“Wonderful,” Tony said deadpanned but Steve grinned and shook his head.

“It was, it was wonderful,” he insisted, “I know you think I don’t remember what I said that night when I got drunk but I do. And it was true, I meant all of it. But over these past few months, I’ve felt freer knowing that I can be the ‘little me’ persona too, and still be me. Just as it was wonderful  to know that you were you, the one I met and the one before that, and it didn’t reduce anything from your persona but only added to it.”

Tony didn’t say a word but felt his breath quicken when Steve moved closer and smiled at him, a fond expression that spoke of knowing and accepting and everything Tony didn’t know he wanted. 

“Tony, the journeys with you are maddening, unpredictable, crazy, and exhilarating,” Steve said, “Someone once told me that  _ love is just a misadventure away on a journey of chances _ and I still don’t know what that means but I do know that a journey with you is much more satisfying than a destination reached successfully. I’ve spent the past eight months trying to figure out my life and making changes, and it was finally time to ask you for the one change I want more than anything else.”

“What’s that?” Tony asked and was proud that his voice didn’t break. 

“An adventure,” Steve answered, his grin threatening to break his face, “I want one more adventure with you. Whatever journey we choose, I want it one more time.”

“Just one?” 

“I thought I’ll bargain my way higher as we go,” Steve shrugged sheepishly and Tony laughed, knowing that his eyes were probably getting wet, “What do you say?”

Tony breathed in deep, nodded once and made his decision before turning around to walk back into his office. 

\---

Steve felt stunned when Tony turned around and walked away without a word. He was extremely aware of the people who were trying not to openly gawk but were watching the whole thing. 

It was sobering, to say the least and Steve looked at the doughnut box in his hand before exhaling shakily. Shooting a dredged up smile at a sympathetically staring Mrs. Arbogast, Steve left towards the exit, choosing the stairs instead of the elevator. 

He felt dull as he reached the parking space and walked towards his bike but stopped short when he saw the person standing next to it.

“Hey,” Tony called out and leaned against Steve’s bike, “What took you so long?”

“What’re you doing here?” Steve asked and Tony shrugged before digging into his pocket and fishing out his wallet.

“I forgot something,” he said, “The last time you got short on cash, you met an amazing guy who apparently changed your life. Didn’t wanna risk it again.”

Steve stared at Tony for a minute before he burst out laughing and crossed the distance to meet the infuriating man he had chosen.

“The next time you leave without an answer,” Steve whispered as he leaned away from the kiss, holding Tony’s face in his hands, “I’m gonna take you to spend an afternoon with Natasha.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Tony whispered back, lips brushing Steve’s in small kisses. 

“You have no idea,” Steve replied and went back to more important things. 

 


End file.
